


Clad in Crimson

by TheOldLion



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consent Issues, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-08-20 08:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20224987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOldLion/pseuds/TheOldLion
Summary: Arya Stark is trapped in Harrenhal. But unbeknownst to her, Tywin Lannister begins to take notice of her.Arya is aged up but still underage by most modern standards





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic. Constructive reviews appreciated

Arya Stark stood in the shadows of Lord Tywin Lannister's chambers, serving as his personal cupbearer. The room was currently occupied by his war council, discussing the King in the North, Robb Stark, and his endless victories over the Lannister forces.

"We should ambush them at night, my lord" Lord Leo Lefford said, one of Lord Tywin's commanders. "We outnumber them greatly and they won't expect it!"

"The last time you took command you sent 500 of our men to their graves at the Trident," Lord Tywin said, increasingly annoyed at the incompetence of his commanders. Night had fallen and the moon cast its pale light on Harrenhal and the Lannister war council had been debating for many hours. Tywin Lannister studied the room, frustration on his face, waiting for any other notions from his war council before turning to his cupbearer.

"Girl" he said. Arya stepped out of shadows. "You have been present at every war council since I returned. Maybe you can you devise a better battle plan than these ingrates" he said before returning his gaze towards his commanders.

Arya stood there silently, feeling the cold gaze of every commander as she studied the map on the board, taking note of all the war pieces on it and recollecting everything she had heard from the war meetings.

"Robb Stark has beaten you in every battle." she said before realizing she had even started. "His men are feeling victorious, brave, while yours are low on morale. You have the more men than he does. Draw him towards you where you have the advantage instead of attacking his lands. Draw him further away from his strongholds and crush him on the field with superior numbers." She looked at the commanders, most them looking contempt while others were stone faced.

But not Lord Tywin. He gave her a proud look before turning to his commanders. "Leave us." he said as he turned back towards Arya

As the last of his war council shuffled out he stood from his chair. “Not only can you read better than some of my commanders, you might also be a better commander” he said.

Arya looked up at him, a nervous smile on her face. As Tywin gave her praise it dawned on Arya what she had just done. Not only did she help the enemy but she might have also put the lives of her brother and mother and all their men at risk.

Yet she did not feel guilty. She had come to respect Tywin Lannister, admire him. She knew what kind of man Tywin Lannister was. Cold, cunning, ruthless. And still, she felt safe around him, even felt warmth from him whenever he praised her. In a way he reminded Arya of her father. Loyal and vigilant when it came to family, they would both protect the ones they loved. But Arya wasn’t sure if Tywin did love anyone.

Over the past weeks she had served him, his guests and his war council, cleaning his chambers and bringing him his food and wine were her primary duties but often he made her fetch and deliver important messages. Whenever she could she would sneak off into the shadows to read the unsealed messages Lord Tywin handed her before delivering them, hoping to somehow aid her brother, but as of late she began studying them. Picking up all pieces of politics and strategy she could from Lord Tywin’s messages to his vassals.

“Thank you, my lord” was all she managed to stutter out before he continued

“I have been in many wars and even more battles. I have fought besides knights and sellswords, kings and petty lords, and in this _war of kings_ my best counsel has come from my cupbearer”

Arya tried her best to suppress the smile, glowing from the praise of her lord but her emotions quickly turned to confusion as she saw the look Lord Tywin was giving her. It was not pride or frustration but something she had never seen before and certainly not from Lord Tywin. Before she knew it Tywin had puller her closer and pressed his lips against hers.

Arya’s eyes widened in shock. Tywin held a strong grip on Arya’s back but she didn’t try to back out of it. _Is this like one of Sansa’s tales? Where the knight gets the princess?_ Arya thought to herself but as soon as it started Tywin pulled away

Both of them looked at each other in shock. Arya saw the fear in his eyes, never imaging the cold Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West could experience fear for kissing a girl like her.

“Get out!” he said, his usual authoritative tone replace by fear.

“Y-yes, my lord” she stuttered, the fear having spread to her. She scrambled out of his chambers, hurrying to her own bedchambers. Thanking the gods that no one bumped into her. She laid down into her wool bed (Tywin had taken such a liking to her that she got a better bed than the other servants of Harrenhal) and thought back to the events that had unfolded, again and again.

Fear and confusion clouded her thoughts, thinking of every torture she would be subjected to come morning. _Feat cuts deeper than swords_. She plotted ideas of escape but none could properly manifest as mind returned to that kiss. _It wasn’t like Sansa’s tales_ she thought to herself. “Ser Gregor,” she whispered to herself hoping to escape her torment. “Dunsen, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling” but before she could continue her mind had already gone back to the kiss and before she knew it was fallen asleep.

Arya found herself in a circular pit of stone walls and a floor of sand. All around her were small lions, growling and snarling at her. She looked around and was completely surrounded. She made herself big and barked back at them. She wanted to lunge at them. To pounce at any one them and rip their stupid throats out.

Suddenly, the small lions in front her parted and between walked another lion, big and old. Proud, majestic and bloodied from fighting, the lion set its sight on her. She wanted to snarl and bark at it, lunge and bite but the lion stopped right in front of her and buried its head in her neck, nuzzling her. Instantly, all her rage and fear vanished, replaced by warmth, comfort and safety. There was nowhere else she wanted to be. Only in the warm embrace of the old lion.

\---

_I’m not dead yet. And I still have my legs_. Panic welled up in Arya as she saw the sun creeping through the sky and soldiers already training in the yard down below. She scrambled towards the door but hesitated. _I’m not dead yet. Fear cuts deeper than swords_. She hurried to the kitchen, passing many guards and avoiding their gaze. None of them gave the slightest bit of attention as she walked past and Arya began to fear if this was all an elaborate trap, to lull her into a false sense of security. She picked up the silver tray carrying Lord Tywin’s breakfast and hurried back towards his tower.

Tywin was at his desk reading a scroll while Kevan Lannister sat at his meeting table, greeting Arya as she entered with a kind smile. “You’re late” was all Tywin said as she entered, not bothering to look up from parchment.

“Apologies, my lord” she said, not daring to look up at him. As he finished reading his parchment the door opened and a Lannister guard walked through

“Apologies for the disturbance, my lord, but another raven just arrived. From the capital” he said and handed the scroll to Tywin and walked out.

“I didn’t bring you a meal, Ser Kevan.” Arya said as Tywin read through the latest developments. “I didn’t know you would be breaking your fast with Lord Tywin this morning” she finished.

“Think nothing of it, child” he answered with the same kind smile he always gave her. “I had already broken my fast earlier this morning.” He turned to Tywin. “What news, brother”

“Lord Baelish has secured our alliance with the Tyrells and reports Mace Tyrell is heading towards the capital with a large host, along with Lords Rowan and Tarly” he said without showing any emotion.

“And the other message?” Kevan inquired

“The scouts report that Stannis Baratheon is moving with his host towards King’s Landing and will arrive before the new moon. Assemble the troops, we leave at nightfall” he said before turning towards Arya. “The girl has proven herself useful, she will accompany to us to King’s Landing. Fetch the serving girls, I want her bathed and wearing clean clothes, not these dirty rags. She can use my chamber. I won’t need it any longer”

Arya looked at him wide-eyed. _Was last night just dream?_ she thought to herself before regaining her senses “Thank you, my lord, but may I request just one thing from you?” she asked.

“That depends” he said.

“No dresses.” She knew she was being hopeful and expected his rejection.

Tywin looked a Kevan, studying his reaction before turning back towards his cupbearer, giving her a cheeky smile “Very well. You may eat the meal you brought me, I don’t need it. Be ready before nightfall.” Arya sat down as Tywin left the room. The smell of cooked rabbit and a fresh loaf of bread, courtesy of Hot Pie, filled her nostrils before digging in. The life of a servant in Tywin Lannister’s service was not filled with hot meals, especially not during war and with the winter approaching. Arya savoured every bite she took, relishing the taste. Life on the run had taught her that she never knew when she was going to eat next.

As she finished her meal three servant girls she did not recognize entered the room carrying buckets of hot water and clean clothes. _No dress_ Arya thought to herself, supressing a grin. She did not recognize them.

“Ser Kevan has given us instructions to bathe you” one of the girls said with overt contempt in her voice.

“You can fill the tub and leave the clothes. I don’t need help bathing” Arya answered with authority. The girls turned to fill her tub and left without another word. Arya undressed and felt the chill of the Riverlands morning before entering the warm water. She had not had a hot bath since she escaped King’s Landing and on the run, with Yoren and the Night’s Watch recruit, all her bathing had to hidden and quick. The life of a girl on the King’s Road during war was dangerous, even more so if anyone figured out she was Arya Stark of Winterfell. Now she could relax, even if only for a short while.

As she cleaned herself, scrubbing away the dirt and sweat and grease on her body she reflected on her journey. After many weeks on the King’s Road with Yoren and Night’s Watch recruits they had been ambushed by Lannister forces. Many were killed in the ensuing action, including Yoren and one of her friends, Lommy. _Lommy._ She had almost completely forgotten about him. They were then taken to Harrenhal and put in pens like pigs while the Mountain picked his victims randomly for torture by the Tickler. _Is there gold hidden in the village? Is there silver? Gems? Is there food? Where is Lord Beric? Where did he go? _Rage welled up from within, remembering the senseless torture. Her thoughts went to when she saw his corpse splayed on the ground, pushed from the upper battlements, courtesy of Jaqen H‘gar, the man that she had owed three names. “Speak the names, and a man will do the rest” he told her when he approached her after having saved his and Rorge’s and Biter’s lives during the Lannister ambush. She still owed him one more name.

There were many cruel, evil men in Tywin Lannister’s service, many that deserved death. She wanted to do it herself but she couldn’t. Not without her Needle. Not while she was Tywin’s cupbearer. _Tywin. _The man behind it all. If she told his name to Jaqen, Harrenhal would fall and Robb would surely win the war and save her.

Arya submerged herself in the water one last time, making sure to clean all the dirt off of herself before leaving the tub and drying herself. She took a look at the clothes that had been brought to her. A black tunic made of boiled leather with the golden lion of Lannister sewn on the left breast, made for a boy; wool breeches and small clothes. She was grateful that Tywin had accommodated her with the simple and warm clothes over a dress, even if he knew she wasn’t boy.

Arya left the room. As she reached the courtyard she saw the sun hanging low in the air. She would be leaving soon. But she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Passing many soldiers, all of them wrapped up in their preparations for departure and not giving her a second look, she entered the kitchen. Hot Pie stood over a counter in the corner, carefully kneading dough. He was working hard, no doubt baking as much bread as he could before the army left. Arya snuck up to him.

“Seven hells, Arry!” Hot Pie jumped as he noticed her “Don’t sneak up on me like that. I thought you were Weese coming to punish me.”

Arya smiled softly “Sorry Hot Pie. I just came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” he said “Where are you going?”

Her smile faded and she looked away “With the Lannisters.”

“Why are you leaving with them?”

“Tywin wants me with him in King’s Landing,” she said. She let the silence linger for a bit before looking into his eyes and continuing “I’ll miss you, Hot Pie. I hope you get out of here.” She walked up to him and hugged him. Her hands didn’t meet behind his back but he gave her a strong hug all the same.

“I’ll miss you too, Arry. Good luck on your journey.” They let go of each other and Arya walked away.

She walked towards the forge, looking for Gendry, but on the way she bumped into a Lannister soldier, with red and white hair split evenly across the middle.

“Jaqen” was all she managed to say before he cut her off

“A girl is leaving, but still, the girl owes one more name” he said in his friendly, foreign accent.

“Aren’t you coming with us? You’re dressed as a Lannister soldier.” she said

“A man is not a servant. A man does not go into war on the whims of some lord. Speak a name and a man will do the rest.”

Arya stood there, unable to think of a name. “But I’m leaving soon. Can’t I just let Gendry give you a name?”

Jaqen’ H’gar shook his head “A girl took three lives from the Red God and only a girl can give those lives back. Jaqen H’gar will leave and not return. Speak a name and a man will do the rest.”

Arya looked at him, scrambling for any name. As Jaqen started to leave she finally found her words “W-Weese” was all she managed to say before Jaqen took his leave

He turned around and flashed a coy smile “_Valar Morghulis. _Farewell, Arya Stark” he said with a bow and walked away.

As Arya walked towards the forge she screamed at herself inwardly. _Why did I say Weese? I could have named anyone. Joffrey, Cersei, Ilyn Payne, the Mountain or the Hound._

Arya’s mood had soured notably as she entered the forge, not paying attention to where she walked, bumping into Gendry

“Whoops. I’m sorry I walked into you, milady” he said in mock apology.

“Stop that!” she said, looking around and hoping no one had heard before turning back to him. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Relax. No one’s here. Everyone’s busy in the courtyard, doing this and that for this lord and that knight. I hope they all get mauled in the field against Stannis. Why are you here, anyway?” he said.

Arya bit her lip and looked away for a second before meeting his eyes. “I’m leaving tonight… with the Lannisters. I’m heading to King’s Landing as Tywin Lannister’s cupbearer,” she said meekly. “I came to say goodbye.”

Gendry’s face dropped. “But-“ he said before lowering his voice, looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “You’re Arya Stark of Winterfell. How can you be his cupbearer? Doesn’t he know you’re a lady of a great house? I thought all the high lords knew each other, at least somewhat.”

“No and he can’t find out! I don’t know what to do, Gendry” she said, neglecting to mention Jaqen and his promise to Arya.

“Well,” he started before hestitating a bit “I’m sorry to hear that. Truly, I am” he said before walking up to her and gripping her in a warm embrace. Arya could feel the sweat and soot on his muscular and bare chest but the hug soother her nonetheless. “You’ll be fine, I promise you. You are the smartest person I’ve ever met and you will survive.”

Arya felt a tear running down her cheek. “Thank you, Gendry” she said before pulling away. She tried to say something, anything to make this easier before bidding farewell but her words failed her. “Goodbye, Gendry. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Lady Stark” he said with a grin. Arya punched him as hard as she could in his shoulder but it didn’t look like he felt it.

She wanted to stay with him or make him tag along but she knew she would be putting his life in even more danger so she turned and walked away. As she entered the courtyard she saw Tywin already on his stallion, shouting orders at his men. She walked towards but it was Kevan who saw her first.

“Ahh, there you are” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. Kevan was already mounted, like his brother, but his horse was not as towering and impressive. “We were starting to think you ran off somewhere. Come with me,” he said beckoning her to follow him. Arya walked briskly, making sure not to fall behind, until they finally stopped beside a horse-drawn litter. “You’ll be traveling in this while on the road and when we make camp you’ll be expected to resume your duties in my brother’s tent. You’re tent will be next to his at every stop so make sure you wake up early” he said with the kind smile reserved for her.

“Thank you, Ser” she said. She had wanted her own horse for the travel but knew better than to complain. She sat inside her litter and soon enough the convoy started moving. As her litter approached the gates she looked outside her window, back at Harrenhal, hoping that Gendry or Hot Pie or even Jaqen H’gar would be standing there and waving at her. Seeing nothing but Lannister soldiers tailing her she went back inside and closed the window, feeling dejected.

The road to King’s Landing would be long and lonely for Arya Stark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated the tags and description a bit (and probably will do more, further down the line) so do check them out

“More wine, my lord?”

“I’ve had enough for the evening,” Lord Tywin answered. “You haven’t eaten since you broke your fast. Go on.”

“Thank you, my lord” she said.

Earlier in the evening Tywin’s tent had been occupied by the commanders of the Reach along with Tywin Lannister’s chosen commanders for the upcoming battle near King’s Landing. They had dined on freshly hunted venison from the nearby forest along with fine Arbor vintage and spiced honey wine from Lannisport. Arya was used on dining on the leftovers from Tywin’s war council meetings and he would often give her a glass of wine. She preferred her wine sweeter than the dry red from the Arbor but had come to appreciate the spiced honey wine.

“What did you think of our esteemed guests from the Reach?” he asked her as she took a sip of her drink.

Although the earlier meeting did include Lannister commanders most remained silent, except Kevan, throughout the meeting whilst the commanders of the Tyrell host strategized with Tywin about the upcoming battle.

“Lord Rowan seems very capable, my lord” she started. “Very courteous and knew when to speak. Lord Tarly is a hard man and very sure of himself. He reminds me of you, my lord.”

Tywin gave her an almost inaudible chuckle but Arya had spent so much time in his company that she picked up on his reactions that most others would miss

“And the Tyrells?” he asked her, turning around to face her.

“Loras and Garlan are very strong and very capable, my lord. They speak very highly of them in the camps.”

“What about their father, Mace Tyrell?”

She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. It would be easy to mindlessly compliment Mace Tyrell but being in the company of Lord Tywin taught her that he didn’t value her for her bootlicking skills

“He’s stupid.”

Lord Tywin’s laughter was not silent this time. “And what makes you say that?” he said, stifling his laughter. Arya had heard stories that Tywin never smiled, let alone laugh, but he had done it a few times in front of her and it always made her happy

“He’s talking like he’s a great man yet he just licks your boots. I bet he’s never been in a real battle. I bet he’s never even held a sword before.”

He gave her a knowing smirk. “And when the war has ended, what would you do with him? His daughter is set to marry the king and he, along with his household guard, will stay in King’s Landing to protect her.”

“Keep him away from the council. A stupid oaf like him would just ruin everything.”

“But he is a powerful man,” added Tywin. “He expects position that suits a man of his stature. He might take offense to not being invited to the small council. He could break the betrothal between his daughter and the king and take all his men back to Highgarden and look for a new suitor for his daughter, possibly strengthening an enemy of the realm.”

Arya simply nodded before trying again. “Then…make him feel important, without giving him any power. Give him a position on the council that’s unimportant or send him away on a meaningless mission. He’d probably be happy polishing your armour after the battle.”

Tywin nodded and gave her another smirk before changing the subject “Tell my brother I need to speak to him, that it’s urgent. Get some rest. We head out at dawn and it will be a long day.”

“Yes, my lord,” she said before turning to leave.

Arya was used to the glares and scowls from the Lannister men as she walked towards Kevan’s tent. The preferential treatment she received from Lord Tywin came with contempt from most others within the camp.

“Ser Kevan,” she announced as she walked into his tent. He looked up from his book. “Lord Tywin wishes to speak with you privately in his tent. He says it’s urgent.”

Kevan was a reserved man. Whenever he wasn’t attending war meetings or making preparations for the upcoming battle, he would often retreat to his tent with a grand history book and a flagon of wine.

Kevan put down the book he was reading and stood up. “Thank you, child,” he said. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Arya bowed as she walked out towards her own tent. Try as she might, she could not get the thoughts of the upcoming battle out of her head. Images of horrific deaths took over her mind’s eye as she saw all the men she hated in the Lannister army suffering brutal mutilations on the battlefield. A gleeful smiled made its way onto her lips. Her thoughts turned to Tywin and the glee turned to worry of might happen to him. She closed her eyes, and muttered _“Dunsen,_ _Gregor Clegane, Joffrey, Queen Cersei. Ilin Payne, Raff the Sweetling, Ser Meryn Trant”. _

***

As usual, Lord Tywin was at his desk writing a letter when Kevan entered his tent_. Some battles are won with swords and spears, others with quills and ravens _he used say. It was also one of his favourite tricks: to summon other to him and make them wait as he continued writing, showing them who’s truly in charge.

No such tricks were needed with Kevan. Tywin was his elder and Kevan was Tywin’s most dependable man.

Tywin never looked up from his letter. “Brother” he said, simply, as Kevan entered.

“Brother,” Kevan replied. “You sent for me.” Kevan sat down as Tywin poured him a cup of wine.

Tywin nodded “I have an important task for you during the battle, concerning my cupbearer.”

Kevan raised his eyebrow, curious. It was not uncommon for his brother to give him special tasks. Kevan had always been Tywin’s most reliable man. But this business with his cupbearer was interesting, if not concerning. Tywin had become unusually fond of her, but Kevan held his tongue.

“When the battle is over and Stannis and his men feed the carrion I want you to, along with your most trusted knights, to escort my cupbearer back to my chambers.”

Kevan was taken aback. “Tywin, this is mere servant work. Surely there is more to this than a simple escort through the city.”

Tywin looked uneasy. “You’re right. If we should somehow lose the battle I want you take her along with the same company with a peace banner and ride to Riverrun and deliver this letter to Catelyn Stark.” He handed Kevan a letter, sealed with the Lion of Lannister.

Kevan was now thoroughly confused. Kevan had often doubted his brother’s plans before and always those doubts had been misplaced. But this was something else entirely. “Just who is this girl, brother?”

Tywin looked uneasy before meeting his brother’s eyes.

“She is Arya Stark of Winterfell,” All of Kevan’s confusion turned into shock. “The day before we left Harrenhal I decided to find out who she was. She is obviously from the North and highborn so I looked through the _History of the Greater and Lesser Houses_ and studied the Northern houses before I stopped at Stark. She is undoubtedly Ned Stark’s daughter, I am certain of it.”

“And you mean to give away one of two Stark hostages that we have should we lose the battle?”

“She will have no use as a hostage if we lose. She will be taken and raped by Stannis’ men before being executed by Stannis himself,” Tywin quipped back. “She is the key to a peace treaty with the North after we mount Stannis’ head on a spike and we will have peace before winter comes. A fragile peace, be that as it may, but peace nonetheless.”

Kevan made to leave before turning back to his brother. “You’re playing a dangerous game, brother. I hope you know what you’re doing. Tywin said nothing as his brother left the tent.

***

The battlefield was in turmoil. Men charging through the lines on horseback, lances in their hands, wreaking havoc across the field as ships in the Blackwater Bay burned with wildfire.

At least that was how she imagined it. She had been confined to her litter just outside King’s Landing while the battle raged on. She could hear the rattling of swords, the screams of men as they died and the occasional emerald flash in the air as more wildfire exploded. She only knew it was wildfire from the occasional updates from Ser Kevan as he rode back and forth between the battle backlines and to the Lannister camp outside King’s Landing. In truth, she was dreadfully bored. She wanted to see the battle as soldiers crashed into each other, wielding swords and spears and maces, splattering blood all over the battlefield. Yet she was to stay in her litter, presumably waiting for the battle to end. She wasn’t even allowed to walk around the camp.

“It’s for your own good, child,” Kevan had told her. “You have to trust me on this, you’ll see later.”

She did like Kevan, and she did trust him, but that did not stop her from being mad at him.

On the road she would often find herself listening to Kevan’s stories as he rode beside her litter. She enjoyed the tales from the War of the Ninepenny Kings the most, the battles with the pirates of the Narrow Sea being her favourite. She could listen to his stories endlessly about Ser Gerold Hightower’s prowess in battle or how Tywin and Kevan had earned their knighthoods but when the conversation turned towards Tytos’ absence, Ser Jason Lannister’s death and how Lord Roger Reyne picked up the mantle, Kevan’s tone changed and he would excuse himself before riding elsewhere.

Her litter started moving. Surprised, she looked out her window. “Where are we going?” she asked, to no one in particular.

“You’ll see soon,” Kevan replied and left it at that.

Arya felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized she was heading towards the Red Keep, into the den of Cersei Lannister. She wanted to jump out of her litter and run away, far from the city, but she knew she would be caught just as quick as she would run.

Before she knew it, they had arrived at the Red Keep. Kevan opened the door of her litter and lead her out. The courtyard was almost pitch black. Few torches were lit, but all of them were either at the entrance of the Red Keep or the gate leading to the city. Arya was as good as blind in the darkness but Kevan lead her to a door and ushered her through the door.

Inside, a few torches were lit but many of them were petering out, emitting low light. Arya looked around as Kevan lead her through the hall. _It’s a banquet hall_ she thought to herself, feeling strange familiarity with the surroundings. Before she could place it, they went through another door, revealing a large serpentine staircase, climbing upwards. As they climbed the stairs Arya became ever more familiar with her surroundings, yet she couldn’t say why.

At the top of the stairs they reached a large door and it all came back to her.

“You’ll stay here for the night,” said Kevan as he grabbed the door handle. Arya stood still.

“I don’t want to” she said.

Kevan looked at her, curiously. “Why not?” She said nothing but her eyes said everything her mouth kept hidden. Kevan sighed, went down on one leg and looked Arya straight in the eye. “You have nothing to fear, child, as we are here to keep you safe. The guards will be stationed outside for the night and will make sure no one disturbs you.

“Do you swear it?” Arya asked. She heard the fear in her own voice.

“You have my word, on my honour as a knight.”

She nodded and entered the room. They did not follow her. The room was dimly lit with few candles flickering faintly though out the chamber. Her father’s chamber. It _was_ her father’s chamber until they…until…

A flash of jade from the nearby window broke her concentration and she looked outside. She was greeted by the sight of Blackwater Bay and the green inferno of shipwrecks that littered the bay. Two times she saw a ship explode from wildfire before her eyes. By the shore she saw hundreds of men celebrating the victory but she could not see which side they were on.

She went to the balcony and was met with a warm gust of air, no doubt from all the wildfire. She could hear the celebrating soldiers on the shores faintly but her attention had returned to the green inferno. The sight of all the burning ships, cogs and carracks, galleys and dromonds alike, made for a haunting yet beautiful sight. Being burnt alive was no doubt horrible, Arya thought to herself, yet she could not look away.

She did not know how much time she spent staring at it but she realized that the men on the beach had gone quiet and when she looked over they had left. She went back inside and found that someone had lit the torch on the wall inside the room. He stood there, looking at her, not saying anything, only taking her in, yet he was not intimidating. This was not the Tywin Lannister she had come to know from the war council, rather welcoming, as if inviting her to come closer. She did, slowly, one step at a time.

He had not taken his armour off, blood-stained from the battle. It was no doubt made from the finest steel gold could buy and then dyed a splendid crimson of House Lannister. On the chest was a magnificent golden lion, roaring at anyone who would dare strike the Lord of Casterly Rock.

She stopped right in front of him, looking him in the eye. She had seen that look in his eye only once, before he put his arms around her in a firm yet gentle grip and she put her arms around his neck. The fear she had felt when climbing the tower, the terrible sinking feeling in her stomach, vanished as she buried her in head in his shoulder. She finally felt safe.

He pulled away to look her in the eye. Pale green eyes met Arya’s grey and before she knew it she felt his lips on hers. She did not flinch. It was a soft kiss. Arya often heard of men using their tongues when kissing but Tywin did no such thing. She did not know how long they kissed but she didn’t care.

As he pulled away he stood and extended a hand. She looked up at him before taking it and they walked together, slowly, towards his bedchamber.


End file.
